Tales Woven

When films are released to cable or Blu Ray, an alternative ending is sometimes included. So, I’m offering you some other options on how the story might end. Or feel free to add your own alternative ending. My comment box is open 24/7.

She had many mantras. Don’t look behind you. Don’t open that door. Don’t download that app. Don’t go down into the cellar. Don’t go up into the attic. Don’t read that text message. Don’t look in the mirror at midnight. Don’t sleep in the dark. Don’t visit that website. Don’t read that diary entry. Don’t play that game.

She spent fearful nights waiting for the monster to stir beneath her bed. She spent scared days listening for sounds of footsteps behind her.

She knew she had to be vigilant – they were out there. She learned horticulture and grew garlic to hang in her kitchen. She learned carpentry and sharped wood into stakes. She learned shooting and kept a gun and specially ordered silver bullets.

She sat in the kitchen one night, garlic around her neck, stakes by her side, the loaded gun on the table. The lights installed in such a way there were no shadows could appear. She felt a slowly dawning horror. That knot in her stomach. The quickened breath, the throbbing heart. It wasn’t because she hadn’t bolted the door. It wasn’t because she had forgotten to close the blinds. It wasn’t because she hadn’t turned on all the lights.

No, her slowly dawning horror was that she was losing/had lost her mind.

~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~Alternative Ending A ~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~

She sat at this table, night after night, holding an empty coffee cup but never remembered making or drinking it. The garlic hung in the kitchen, but she wasn’t sure when she had put it there. Nor piling wooden sticks next to her chair. The slowing dawning horror that she lived and relived this moment. Her whole world was garlic, flood lights, silver bullets, empty coffee cup, kitchen table, wooden stakes, and fear.

~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~Alternative Ending B ~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~

She hadn’t looked in the mirror for months, afraid of what she might see standing behind her. Hung a curtain over it. Brushed her teeth in the kitchen. She checked out how she looked by glancing in windows, but only for a second.

She clutched the empty cup until her fingers blanched. It was well after midnight. Bathroom lights left no shadows. Shower curtain translucent.

Pushed away from the table. Deep breaths to stay calm. Centered. Grounded. Closing bathroom door so only the room showed behind her. Reached up and pulled the curtain open.

A transparent being stared back, outlined in a faint shimmering glow. The mirror figure mimicked her actions. She tried to brace her self against the vanity. Not solid, her hand passed through.

Her slowly dawning horror. She was dead. She was a ghost. She was the haunting not the haunted.

~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~Alternative Ending C ~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~

Her eyes popped open. Just a nightmare she thought. Trying to fill her head with sound not images, she used it as a mantra. Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream.

She could still smell garlic despite the strong dark, earthy nature of her bedroom. A sense memory so strong from the dream. So overpowering, she felt rancid in her stomach. The pile of wooden stakes made her suddenly feel vulnerable. Only a dream. The girl seems like an unlikely foe.

As twilight turned to darkness, she rose from her bed. A slowly dawning (she hated that word) horror almost nailed her to the floor. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was an omen, a premonition that the vampire hunters were at it again.

(Conversely, the slow dawning horror could be that she is/was the girl with the garlic, stakes, and silver bullets)

~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~Alternative Ending D ~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~

Your turn. What happens as she is sitting in the kitchen with an empty cup and a slowly dawning horror in her mind and heart?

find what you may

Search for:

tales woven

mindlovemisery’s menagerie

Richard Bach: Messiah’s Handbook: the Lost Book From Illusions

Your friends will know you better in the first minute you
meet than your acquaintances will know you in a
thousand years.
~*~*~*~*~
Everyone comes with a
Design-O-Life Personal Future Construction Kit.
Not everyone remembers where they put it.

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